


The change in the status quo

by hpjk_addict



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slash, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8134837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpjk_addict/pseuds/hpjk_addict
Summary: Tom decides that having Chakotay alive and well is more important than being publicly acknowledged as his lover. Chakotay’s POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still trying to get Chakotay/Paris out of my system. Suffice it to say that I'm failing. Feedback is always welcome)))

I slowly open my eyes. My vision is blurred; my head feels as though a fully-grown targ is using it as a place to seat on; my consciousness is most reluctant to catch up with my other faculties. But I know that I’m in sickbay. After all, as Tuvok would say, it is the only logical conclusion to reach after another mission to replenish our supplies of dilithium has gone wrong. I sigh and try to lift my hand in order to scrub the rest of the sleep away – it might help clear my head – when I realize that I’m not alone and that my hand is trapped. I turn my head to the side and find Tom’s messy blond head pressed against the side of my bio-bed, one of his hands clutching mine.

“Hey,” I rasp and instantly wince; my voice is barely recognizable.

Tom jumps up, his eyes wide, swallows, and just looks at me for the longest of time. Then –

“Hey, yourself.”

His voice is soft and low – quite different from the voice he’d used during our short but spectacular row just before I left for the mission. I can sense his shame and remorse – he regrets it now – it’s pouring off of him in waves. It’s excruciating to watch. I know that it’s eating him from inside. He looks lost, his eyes wider and brighter than normal. His colour feverish.

Wordlessly, he grabs his tricorder and swipes it over me, his forehead furrowed as he concentrates on the readings. I wait patiently until he’s done. Finally, he nods and gives me a hesitant smile, his eyes literally drilling into me – it’s as though he isn’t ready to take the readings of the tricorder on faith just yet. “Everything seems to be in order,” he says, almost wonderingly. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” I reply. “No need to worry.” I’m glad to hear that my voice sounds almost normal again. I gesture with my chin at the dimmed lights. “Don’t you have an early shift tomorrow?”

Tom puts away the tricorder and shrugs as he absent-mindedly rubs his thumb against mine.

“I can hardly sit here and hold your hand at any other time, can I? People will start talking.”

His voice is humourless but no longer accusatory. He looks subdued and defeated.

I sigh.

“Tom – ”

“No one should know. Remember?” he interrupts me. “Your own prime directive, Chakotay.”

He snorts – then smiles. His smile is so damn bitter and sad it breaks my heart to see it. But even more so to admit that it’s my fault that it’s there in the first place. I’ve hurt him badly and I can’t even tell him why. I know that my reasons will hurt him even more. I can’t tell him that I hesitated to go public and acknowledge him as my lover because I didn’t trust him to remain one for long. I didn’t trust him not to betray me. I didn’t trust him not to make me a laughing stock with the crew. I didn’t trust him not to turn it all into farce. I didn’t trust him not to up and leave without so much as an explanation.

I can’t tell him that there were times when I was about to put an end to whatever it was that we had going – like a coward – to save myself from getting hurt by him first. I didn’t trust him until I saw how much it hurt him to be allowed only into my bed but not into my life, my thoughts, my feelings. I didn’t trust him until I was confronted by his anguish. His fury. His ultimatum just before he stormed off without wishing me a save trip (something he had never neglected to do before) down on the planet that proved to be much less friendly than our sensors had originally indicated. I can’t tell him that I didn’t trust him all along.

It was almost a blessing to black out. To be swept away to the forest of my youth… to find myself having a walk with my animal guide…

“Tom…”

Tom shakes his head. Abruptly, he drops my hand and steps backward – almost hitting the biobed behind him.

“No,” he bites out savagely. “I don’t care. Fuck it, Chakotay!”

My heart skips a beat. So there it is… He’s finally reached the end of his tether. He’s going to break it off. Because of me. Because I finally forced him to do it through my selfishness, coldness, cowardice, neglect… I’m too late to repair the damage I’ve caused – too late to soothe the pain I’ve been inflicting upon him over and over again, pretending that it wasn’t there, justifying it with my own insecurities. But I must try. I must change his mind. I must explain. I briefly close my eyes when I realize what it will take. I must inflict another discharge of pain before I can attempt to make the necessary repairs to our relationship. If it’s not too late…

“Tom,” I say in a choked voice, struggling to sit up as he paces the floor. He shakes his head again.

_Don’t. Don’t speak. Don’t say a word._

No one speaks – but the words – the pleas – hang in the air between us. He leans against the biobed opposite mine, doubles over as though in terrible pain. He hisses and rakes his hands through his hair. He’s struggling. He can’t say it. I’m hopeful. But he doesn’t look at me. I need to see his face. I need to see the look on his face.

“Tom? Tom? What is it?”

_Look at me…_

Tom straightens up as though my thoughts have reached him and looks squarely at me: his jaw is set, his eyes are too bright.

“You win, Chakotay,” he says bitterly. The words are not coming easily to him. Win? I don’t understand. I feel like I’ve lost. He looks at me. Then to the side. Then at me again. He is hesitating. I’m waiting on tenterhooks. Then it all comes out and it breaks my heart to hear him say it. For him. Not for myself. I brought him to this. “Fuck the ultimatum,” he says. “Forget it. I don’t give a shit. I will be whatever you want me to be. If that’s – ” he makes a vague, frustrated gesture with his hand between us “ – if that’s all you want from me – need from me – fine. I’ll do it. I can. I’m sure I’ve done a damn good job so far. God knows I’ve been doing it all my fucking life. I won’t ask for more. I’ve learned my place in your life by now.”

He gives a snort and curls his lips. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can tell him that this is not at all what I want from him, my breath catches in my throat as he strides over to where I’m sitting and practically spits in my face: “Just. Don’t. Fucking. Die. Don’t you fucking dare, Chakotay. Do you hear me?” he growls. “I’ll do anything you want me to. Just don’t leave me. Don’t go. Please, don’t…” His last words are no more than a heart-wrenching plea. It cuts me open. We are both bleeding inside.

“Tom, hush,” I murmur, trying to bring him close to me. He shakes his head and steps away – out of my reach. His eyes are longing and defiant at the same time. He has always been a curious mixture of tameness and wildness. I have often watched as they warred within him: the deep-seated desire to please and the itching need to rebel. They clash now too as I hold my arms open for him. Waiting. His eyes flash, his lips purse, his hands clench into fists at his sides – a heartbeat – and he bows his head in defeat, all fight leaving his body in one single breath. His desire to please has won again. It almost always does.

He makes a step towards me. He looks so vulnerable. Breakable. I see that he’s trembling. Will he break if I touch him? But then he is in my arms and he is whole and alive. He settles between my legs as I bring him flush with me body. He struggles. Feebly. Then buries his head in the crook of my neck and clutches at me with all his might. It’s hard to breathe. But I don’t care.

“Don’t leave me,” he hisses over and over again against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “I will be good. I swear. I won’t complain about anything. Ever. I will do anything you want me to. Anything. Just don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” I breathe out. “I promise.”

He lifts his head, looks into my eyes, and nods.

“On one condition,” I add softly but firmly.

His breath hitches. He looks as though I have punched him. Then nods. _Anything…_

“Tom,” I say. He winces and looks away. I curse myself for sounding so damn stern. “Tom, listen to me. I don’t want you to be good. I want you to be yourself.”

He looks back at me – surprised.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “I want Tom Paris. Good and bad. I want the whole of you. I want you.”

The change is instant and exhilarating. He cocks his eyebrow and thrusts himself against me, a familiar brash smirk curving his lips.

“I can do that, Chakotay,” he drawls, looking at me with laughing blue eyes. “I can be myself.”

“Good.” I don’t let it distract me, though. “Move in with me?”

I manage to stun him into total stillness.

“What?”

He looks stunned. But more than that – he doesn’t believe me. I try to reassure him.

“I mean it, Tom. It’s not a trick. Trust me.”

_Please, Tom, give me the kind of trust I couldn’t give you._

“Okay…” he says slowly, backing away. He takes a deep breath and looks steadily at me. I can almost see his mind at work – another moment and he will reach for the tricorder.

I chuckle.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about the status quo, you know.”

Tom narrows his eyes, locking his gaze on me again.

“Are you certain, Chakotay? I mean… I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do just to please me. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“And yet you had no hesitation about doing it yourself,” I point out. “How would that be fair to you?”

Tom shrugs. “It wouldn’t.” _But I’m used to that._ I can clearly hear the words ring in my head even though he never spoke them aloud.

“Come here,” I say and he complies. “I want you to move in with me,” I whisper against his lips. “I want everyone to know that we’re together. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

He looks at me for a long time. I look back. Thankfully, whatever he sees in my eyes seems to convince him.

“You are serious,” he says in wonder.

I nod and he laughs. It’s a laughter of pure joy. He grins and attacks my mouth with a ferocious kiss that I am only too happy to return. It would have been a much longer kiss if not for –

“Mr. Paris! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The acerbic bark of our EMH makes us groan into each other’s mouth as we break apart.

“Mr. Paris, I remember telling you to activate me once my patient regained consciousness,” he says in his clipped tones. “Naturally, you chose to ignore my instructions as I knew you would. That is why I made sure that I would be activated without your assistance.”

I doubt if Tom hears a single word the EMH says. We breathe heavily, clutching at each other. I can’t take my eyes away from Tom’s flushed face and thoroughly kissed lips. He may have been the one to start it but I definitely got the upper hand there. His eyes are glazed with lust and need as he is trying to refocus on my face.

“Mr. Paris, if this is how you propose to treat my patients – ”

“But, Doc, it helps!” protests Tom hoarsely. “See for yourself.”

The Doctor pushes Tom away and begins to run his tricorder over me, his sour expression getting sourer and the holographic lines marking his face more pronounced by the second.

“Yes, I can see… accelerated heart rate… adrenaline levels rising… Mr. Paris! Get out of my sickbay immediately!”

Tom raises his hands up and gives the EMH a cheeky grin. “Fine, Doc, fine,” he says in a conciliatory manner as he makes his way towards the exit. “I’m going now. See?” He gives me a saucy wink. “After all, I have some packing to do,” he says and disappears through the swishing doors.

Before the doors have time to swish shut, I hear his happy laughter echoing in the hall. Unfortunately, the EMH is less than amused.

THE END


End file.
